The Ford Effect
by Seanolly
Summary: Compassion leads to weakness, as the Holmes Brothers agreed. Sherriford Holmes, knew all to well that his own flesh and blood hold none for him. But Doctor Victoria Latimer, gave it to him willingly from her own free will. The craving he had turned into something unhealthy. The black sheep had suddenly become a wolf. Sherriford H./OC/Sherlock H.
1. Chapter 1

**Sherlock story in my mind. This has been on my mind for sometime and I am finally putting out there.**

* * *

The heaviness she felt while walking was taking a toll on her feet. Work was far from done and the next patient was about to enter. A long sigh, she closed her eyes, gather her mind and her wits. Things would've been easier if she wasn't here, but she was and she wasn't going to look back. Slowly she sank down on the seat, behind her desk. Inhaling and exhaling, she rubbed her temples.

A knock on the door, "Yes." She answered, as she gathered her files of patients she had just finished. The door opened slowly as a nurses head popped in the door, "There are two men to see you." she said in a small tone.

Two men?

"I'm waiting for Ms. Nott."

"I know ma'am but they insist on seeing you."

"Why?" A frustrated growl, "If they are the same men from last week, tell them I can not recommend a sex change doctor. I told them this but they-"

"Ma'am, it's not them."

A small pause. The look on the nurses face said something she didn't want to know.

"Two men, you say?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Do they know me?"

"They said you were old acquaintances."

"That doesn't say much-"

"They're English and very rude, ma'am." she whispered as if she was keeping a secret.

"Rude?" she paused. "They're rude in general. Nothing new." she said as she shuffled her papers to organize her desk.

"Are they really?" the nurse asked.

Shrugging her shoulders, "I've had my share." she paused, "Did they say why they wanted to see me if they're not patients?"

"They didn't say ma'am. Only that it was very important."

It wasn't uncommon for English folks to be in the area. However, there was a small fleeting moment of fear. The blood from her face had left her. Her mind was buzzing with thousands of thoughts and ideas. Fear had struck her. Overreacting? Possibly. But this was not normal, two men looking for her. Dizziness had struck her and was glad she was sitting down.

"Bring them in." she said in a low shallow voice.

"Yes, ma'am."

The nurse was about to close the door, when the Doctor said, "When they come in, I want you time it. Come back in10 minutes." she looked at her watch.

"Why?"

"In case I need a distraction. Bring a file in and tell me that Mr. Notts is here."

"Sure thing ma'am."

The nurse closed the door, leaving her in the office. Her heart started to pump hard, her breathing had become somewhat erratic but she controlled herself. This was not the time and place for this. It could be anyone and narrowing down to only two men she knew, would scare her to death for no reason. Slowly the door opened, getting ready to stand up to greet them she had suddenly felt her feet give way, feeling like a ton of brick had kept her on the chair. Her hands were on the desk, not moving them. Any sudden moves would give herself away.

The two men entered the room and slowly sat down on the chairs. The only thing that was separating them was the desk and for that she was grateful.

The silence in the room was defining. The ticks from her watch were the only comfort she could find.

One with his umbrella, slowly and quietly tapping it on the ground and the other drumming his pinky finger on his lap. A hard inhale escaped her throat. She could not read their faces, they had nothing to show for it. They were anything but warm and excited to see her and neither was she. There was no energy to greet them and likewise.

She had met the older man, once, and hoped it would be just once. The younger one she had known all to well. Well enough for her to throw a seething look at him. Shifting her eyes between the two men, observing where they were looking. She quietly prayed to herself to remain calm and not give herself away. Stay neutral as possible.

The younger man, saw that she was trying hard to control herself. Her dark green eyes stared down at him, almost in a pleading way then it changed to a protective mode. It was apparent to him that she was not going to yield to them. Not after what happened almost a year ago.

They were going to speak and when they do, they would have the advantage. But what could she say to them? They no longer had anything to do with her and she didn't need them for anything.

"Hello Ms. Latimer." said the older gentlemen.

They had beat her to the punch. Shaking her head she leaned forward on into the desk.

She did not answer. Yes, she was being rude, but it wouldn't have mattered to her.

"It's been a long time."

Still no answer.

"South Africa was not what we though you had in mind."

"How long have you been following me?" she said in a shaky tone.

"You were hard to find." said the older tone.

"You flatter me." as her sarcastic tone exposed how she felt.

"Ms. Latimer, there is no need for you to be so resentful."

"Why are you here?" she asked in a low tone. Still another moment of silence, she huffed. "I have nothing to do with him. Not any more."

"We know what happened but we want to hear it from you." the older man said as he tapped his umbrella on the ground, which gave a small thud. Her eyes flickered to the umbrella, jumping slightly. He caught on to her. "You look as if you're expecting," he paused to see her hands, "to be attacked."

She inhaled and exhaled hard.

"If there is one thing I've learned from you two, it's to never be too comfortable." she retorted but a deep voice changed the conversation. It was demanding. Which was not what she wanted.

"Why did you run?" The younger one asked.

She found herself short of breath when he asked. "Wouldn't you run if you were in my situation? I didn't know what else to do. I didn't want to get involved and yet, I was and now, I am no longer involved." she said in a seething tone.

"That's where you are wrong," said the other man in a low baritone.

Then his eyes started to move, rapid like. She knew what he was doing, "Stop it!" the temptation to yell, she knew he was learning about her and her situation. Then a gasp escaped his throat which made her crumble on the desk. He knew.

"Please, just please, stop-" pleading with the them both as she tried to contain self-control, trying hard not to move her hands from the desk.

"How long?" the low baritone had suddenly become a growl.

No answer.

He repeated, "how long?" With a tone of authority.

"He's dead. I watched him-"

"How long Ms. Latimer?" Said the elder gentlemen as he stomped his umbrella on the ground.

A moment she gathered her strength. "Get out!"

The younger man stood up, "How dare you hide this from us? You think we wouldn't of figured it out?" As he leaned on the desk entrapping her as he slammed his fist.

"I ran away, hoping I would never see any of you Holmes Brothers. I ran away so I can find myself a new life. The life he lived was not something I signed up for! I was dragged into it and I took the bait like an idiot. Because compassion is something you Holmes know nothing of and I should've taken that page out of your rule book. But now, I will pay for it-"

"And you think we're not paying for it either?"

"Sherlock, sit down."

"Are you not seeing what I am seeing, Mycroft?" Sherlock yelled back at Mycroft.

"I'm not impervious to her dilemma and I see exactly what is in front of me, now stop winding her up before her blood pressure harms her and-"raising his voice only a little but was taken back when she yelled.

"Get out of my office! Now! I never want to see you Holmes for as long as I live. You will have nothing to do with my life and what I choose to do." starting to feel overwhelmed.

So much for staying neutral.

They knew how to push her buttons. She could keep her own secrets but in this case, how long could she hide it? They were the Holmes brothers, they would've figured it out but she'd be damned if she didn't try to hide from them. Another moment of silence and she could feel her belly roil. Closing her eyes to gain control.

"That's where you are wrong." Sherlock stated, "you are now involved, more then ever." As his eyes traveled down to her bust.

"Stop analyzing me! You deserve nothing from this, neither does Ford. He's dead. I saw him fall!

"You see, that's just it, Ms. Latimer. Death has a hard time grasping any Holmes brothers."

Shaking her head she didn't want to know. "Just get out." stubborness had hit her and she was no longer being diplomatic. She was emotionally drained already and she couldn't gather her wits anymore.

"What you saw was just a set up-"

"Get out!" She finally yelled at the top of her lungs as she stood up and pointed to the door and the other hand resting at the top of her stomach, in a protective way. Both Holmes brothers saw her, finally revealing her true state.

"Don't tell me that what he did could justify what happened to me. Everything he did, he did it out of selfishness! He will never have to face the consequences and neither will you. I will deal with it and I don't need your help. He's dead," she paused as she held back her small whimper, "just as I am."

Sherlock finally was able to make his analyzes, he saw her swollen breasts, her feet and her belly. "I didn't think Ford had it in him-" he said but was caught of guard when he saw a stappler flying towards him. Quickly he dodged it and was surprised.

She had it in her right mind to go a across the room and slap him, but the stapler was enough. "And you think I wanted this? Get the hell out of here or I swear to God, I'll call the police. You dare insult me like this? This is the reason why I left because you would be so disgusted by this-"

"Victoria, he's alive!" Mycroft said over her yelling.

A pause and a small whimper escaped from her mouth. Shaking her head, "Is this some con? Is this your way of punishing me? Because you're doing a very good job!"

Both were silent.

Victoria was waiting for one of them to crack a smile and say it was all a joke. She wanted to hear them say that they were in her office to check on her and leave her alone for as long as she lives. For once, she wanted a lie. Not the truth.

She held her breath.

Waiting for the ah-ha moment.

Slowly, Sherlock took out something from his pocket and slowly placed it on the desk. A Chess piece. A queen. A white queen.

Leaning against the desk for support, she started to feel dizzy. Slowly shaking her head, as a tear escaped from her eyes. Looking back at the Holmes Brothers, whom were staring back at her. Cold and calculating, they had no room for sympathy.

With her hands shaking she slowly picked up the chess piece, closing her eyes she slowly grazed her thumb on the bottom of the piece. Victoria had hoped for a smooth bottom, it was anything but, it was carved, making her gasp as she opened her eyes. Looking around the room she tried hard to hold her tears in. Shaking her head, "It's not-" she choked, "Possible."

Slowly turning it around she saw it. An initials were carved.

 _VL_

Victoria's heart dropped, just as the piece dropped. Victoria could feel her chest constricting, the feeling in her fingers were gone.

"Sherrinford Holmes is alive." Sherlock said in a cold tone which vibrated through her body.

"But he died-" she said as she gasped. Her body had become numb, but the ounce of fear she had had caused her to move to the door. Fight or flight. This was it. The rush of blood to her head made walking hard. Sherlock followed her, "Victoria, breathe. You'll hurt yourself and the-" but before he would finish, he saw her knees buckle, she lost all control of her body as she fainted. Sherlock managed to grab her on time before she fell. Slowly he went down with her, taking the weight.

"Mycroft get a doctor, now!" Sherlock yelled to Mycroft.

Mycroft didn't need to be told twice, opening the door, he yelled for a Doctor to assist. His authority and tone said it all, he was afraid. Afraid for her.

"She's breathing but only just."

"I need a doctor now!" Shouting at a nurse.

Sherlock looked at her, growing pale and almost clammy. Automatically his gaze had gone to her stomach. Slowly but gently placed a hand on her belly. There was a small kick, ripping his hand away from her belly. A lump formed on his throat, this was not a game any more, this was different.

It was life.

Growing inside her.

"He will find her and especially in her state, it will complicate the matter. More than we anticipated." Sherlock said to Mycroft, who was waiting outside.

"Don't you think I know that? If he knows then it could mean dire consequences. She can't stay here."

A doctor entered the room as they tended to her.

Their intentions were just, but now, it had become complicated. There were more than one life on the line. Another Holmes was on the way.


	2. Chapter 2

Time and discretion was on the line, with so much to loose.

Mycroft could only assert his power where he saw fit, but if it would come to it, he would abuse it. Especially, seeing the unconscious women with her bulging stomach, on the gurney, being rolled on to private jet plane. Complications have been present throughout the process, now it has become dire. There was more than one life at stake.

Mycroft had given her the space she needed. There was no point in trying to keep her detained after Sherrinford. It was apparent to Mycroft that she wanted nothing to do with them, never looking to them for protection or safety. Victoria wanted to be on her own and he was going to do just that. And yet, it would be the illusion he wanted her to have.

Ignorance is bliss, as they say. And bliss was what he wanted her to have as way to repay for the damage that was done to her. So, he let her continue on her bliss while his finest men had her followed. They were the best of the best, trained to deflect danger, ensuring her safety and if she did try to flee, they would be one step ahead. They gathered everything from what she bought to who her patients were. After all, they were the British finest soldiers!

But what they couldn't see was a belly growing. The frumpy clothes, the change of her body, the tiredness she carried with her everyday!

Yes, they were the finest soldiers, indeed.

Mycroft was going to cut their wages for their ignorance.

Sherlock, on the other hand, was overwhelmed with the thought of a child coming into the world. Another life, that he absolutely no idea what to do with. Sherlock and children were not something you heard or saw in a sentence or in real life. Nor did he ever intend to be surrounded or be near one.

Victoria would carry and care for the child. Although, there was the exception that Mycroft had a soft spot for her. Sherlock had taken a mental note, the first time Mycroft spoke to her, it was with ease and to the point; with a hint of humor. Which is rare for Mycroft. And yet, when they first met, it was not over coffee or lunch, it was at a time when she had to recover from Sherrinford. Victoria had made an impression on him. Was it her attitude? Was it her demeanor? Sherlock could not say or notice. Yet, it was evident that he would go to great lengths to keep her safe and healthy. As he watched the doctors, who were reading her vitals and checking her blood pressure.

She was to be a mother to a Holmes but would not see it that way. There was the selfishness that they would have nothing to do with them. Which made him understand why she remained behind the desk, she was too afraid to expose herself. The way she demanded they left and leave her alone. The fear and anger wasn't just for what had happened almost a year ago, it was for her safety of the child. It was motherly instincts to protect herself from predators, willing to do what it takes to protect the life in her.

It was logical.

It was primitive.

It was natural!

They were taking her for her own protection and she would have no say in it, what so ever. The Holmes were selfish men for their own needs, but this time, it was for another Holmes that was yet to be born.

Victoria did not forgive any of them and was bearing a heavy regret on herself of her actions. Sherlock could hold no compassion for her. He gave a fair warning to her on what would happened if she continued the path, but why didn't she listen? Because of her kind and motherly instincts that he found so disgusting. The warning had become a heavy burden she would carry, as Sherlock thought while watching her shift in her sleep.

And yet, she wasn't the only one to be blamed. Sherrinford Holmes. Ford, as she called him. Sherri, as Sherlock used to call him to get a raise out of him.

The youngest of the Holmes and the most difficult of them all. If there was anything that he had done in the past that would ever come back to haunt them, it would be nothing but childs' play. Minor and easily brushed off.

But this?

Sherrinford had out done himself! The jet plane took off as Sherlock and Mycroft sat across from each other, not meeting each others gaze. They could not say a word to each other. Not yet at least. Mycroft had watched the sleeping form of Victoria, while Sherlock looked at the clouds.

"This certainly places us in a very difficult position." Mycroft said in a low tone.

"Us? I think what you mean to say is, you."

"Don't start the blaming game. It's rather childish!"

"You said Sherrinford had died. You confirmed it!" yelling at him.

"The shot was confirmed but the body was not-" retorting back but resorting to keeping his tone low, he did not want to wake Victoria.

"England's finest indeed!" he mocked Mycroft.

"Sherlock, Sherrinford is looking for her!"

"I know and when he does he will dangle her in front of us. What is she to him? Why does he want her? Mrs. Latimer holds absolutely no purpose in the world he lives in."

"She spoke to you the most, what did she say about him?"

Sherlock then remembered the first time he met her.


	3. Chapter 3

_There was a small knock was on the door._

 _"Hello Sherlock." It was his house maid, no- his land lady._

 _No response._

 _There is a nice lady downstairs who would like to talk to you about a case!"_

 _Yes, they always do and then they turn out to be reporters. I'm not taking any cases, not right now."_

 _"Are you sure? She doesn't look like a reporter."_

 _"That's what you said about the last one, Mrs. Hudson. I don't want to take any chances. I refuse to see anyone. I am too busy at the moment. "_

 _"You don't have to be so gloomy deary. I know you have a lot on your mind but maybe she can change your mind for a bit." she kindly argued with him._

 _"No, Mrs. Hudson!" he said in a curt tone and sat down on his chair._

 _"Fine, if you insist." Mrs. Hudson shook her head and tisked at him, closing the door._

 _Sherlock let a sigh escape as he closed his eyes, hearing Mrs. Hudson talk to the female as she stated. Whom did not seem to argue or question her, complied with his request, then the door closed. Finally, the silence he wanted._

 _Moving over to his desk, newspapers clippings everywhere with his laptop on sleep mode. Waking up his laptop he started typing. His mind was running with ideas, the problem was how to organize them. As he continued to type he heard a knock again. His shoulders drooped._

 _"What is it Mrs. Hudson?" he said without turning his attention to her._

 _"Just wanted to let you know that the nice lady told me to give you this." walking over to his desk, "She said it was important that you receive this."_

 _Sherlock rubbed his temples, it was obvious that he was not going to get any peace. This was it for him, he was ready to lash out at the poor old lady when he saw the piece she held out to him._

 _Why did he suddenly feel like he had been punched in the gut? This piece was so familiar and yet so distant. Blinking hard, he took a step forward and his mind had started to run faster than he could anticipate. Shaking his head while closing his eyes, trying to find the file in his mind. It was somewhere, but where? Where was his mind?_

 _It was a black rook._

 _He knew it was from somewhere. Not a case but something more personal. And then it hit him when she handed it to him. There was a carving on the bottom of the rook. Short of breath and snatching it from her hand he started babbling faster than he could comprehend himself, while Mrs. Hudson had the fright of her life. "Calm down Sherlock, it's just-"_

 _"Where is she?" running to the nearest window to find her. "The lady who gave you this! Where did she go? Which way?"_

 _"What's got you all worked up Sherlock?"_

 _"I need to know where!" he yelled at her as he looked for her._

 _"She went that way!" pointing to the left._

 _"What was she wearing? Color of her hair? Height?"_

 _"A maroon coat- uh, brunette, and uh- an a wee shorter than me-" she explained as she saw him with the piece and ran out of the house. Still in his pajamas, looking for the maroon coat, she couldn't have gone very far. Unless she took a cab and if she did then he was at a lost. However, there was the idea that she had walked but was a fast walker. Everything was buzzing in his mind, trying to make a picture of her face of what Mrs. Hudson said. She couldn't have been that far! Running around a block, his attempt to find her had failed the moment he denied her._

 _Sighing hard and ruffling his hair, he started his way back to 221 Baker street. The fact that he was in his silk blue and white striped pajamas would make a strange sight for Londoners to see but in his case, it really didn't matter. Turning to open the door to his house, from his peripherals, at the sandwich shop he saw a women exit the shop, whom was wearing a maroon coat._

 _For the women, it was indeed strange to see a man in pajamas enter the house that she had just been denied access to, only then to realize he was holding the piece._

 _They locked eyes._

 _She certainly gave him an effect that he wasn't expecting._

 _Before she could get a word out, Sherlock started, "Where did you get this?" almost out of breath._

 _Opening her mouth to respond, he quickly lashed out, " I said, where did you get this?!"_

 _She took a small step back, it wasn't because she felt threatened by him, she took the step back to give him some space. Sherlock could see that she was observing him and almost analyzing him, still she never said a word._

 _But that didn't mean Sherlock wasn't doing the same._

 _It was strange that this women had looked at him like he was familiar to her; as if she was almost comfortable with his presence, even though they had never met. Sherlock had always known that clients felt uncomfortable with the way he carried himself or the way he spoke to them. John Watson, had been the calming rift between the clients and him. In this case, John was not necessary._

 _"Would you like some tea?" was the first thing she said._

 _"No, I do not want tea. I need to know where you got this?" his tone had been demanding and almost threatening._

 _With a small nod, she held out her cup that was in her hand, "It's cold outside. You're going to catch hypothermia in those pajamas." she said in a calm but caring tone._

 _Sherlock was taken back by her tone and her demeanor. It was obvious that she wasn't going to give him all the answers right away and she was making her demands, without even trying. He needed to yield, to take the control from her. He would have to do what John would do, allow them in to his office. Slowly he opened the door, "Would you like to come in?" his tone had calmed somewhat._

 _Giving a small smile that reached her eyes, "Thank you." she said very kindly. As she slowly passed him and handed him the cup of tea, "Hypothermia." in a warm tone._

 _Sherlock sat down on his chair as she remained standing. Placing the cup of tea on the stand next to him._

 _"Please sit."_

 _"No thank you, I'd rather stand." as she slowly took off her scarf._

 _Sherlock looked at her up and down and responded with short nod. Again, he could see that she was making her demands, without trying and it was strange that he was complying himself. Standing up, he leaned against the desk. Slowly he placed the piece beside him._

 _"Where did you get this?" his tone was deep._

 _She inhaled._

 _Sherlock knew this was going to be long._

 _"A friend of mine has gone missing and he wanted me to give this to you."_

 _"Your friend?" he said as his tone broke slightly, then clearing his throat._

 _Nodding she said, "He gave me the rook the last day I saw him." as she clutched to her leather messenger bag._

 _"Last day?"_

 _"Uh, yes."_

 _"And when was this?"_

 _"A month ago. He just went off and left."_

 _"You say he is missing?"_

 _"Yes."_

 _"And have you gone to the police and filed a missing persons case?"_

 _"Uh," a pregnant pause, "No."_

 _"Are you hiring me for a missing person case?"_

 _Shaking her head._

 _Sherlock's eyebrow cocked up."You mean to tell me that your friend is missing and you're not doing anything to have him found? A friend you are!"_

 _Silent on her end as she looked away._

 _"So, you came to give me," he said as he reached for the piece behind him to show it to her, "This." his tone was terse._

 _"Yes."_

 _Again another pregnant pause. "Care to elaborate?"_

 _"No." she shook her head, "I just came to-" her voice had raised a little then it dropped. Sighing she said, "He is considered missing but I think he just wants to remain missing and want to be left alone."_

 _Sherlocks' eyebrow raised, "Alone?"_

 _Another moment of silence._

 _"By the way, my name is Victoria Latimer." she said as she held out her hand to shake his._

 _Sherlock ignored it as he looked her straight in the eye, "And you're a doctor, you live on your own. You prefer to have no attachments, especially since you are traveling from month to month bases but you've been here for almost- give or take 4 months. A traveling doctor, without borders. You lived in America and prefer not to go back. You're running from something." he said as his gaze traveled from her clothes to her face, "Your relationships are troubling, so you prefer to be strictly platonic. Friends are short lived, Ms. Latimer but the friend you made was more than just a friend. He made an impression on you that you couldn't let go." he said as he popped his lips._

 _Sherlock waited for her initial response, but what he saw from her was not surprised or shock. He expected a slap in the face or lashing of some sort but instead, he was greeted with a small smile while slowly shaking head in a small disbelief, "My God, you were being very kind to me compared to what he said." letting a small giggle escape her._

 _A giggle? No women giggle after a deduction of their character and their life. But then again, if he had already deduced her, then she was right, he was being far too kind._

 _"Yes, you're right about, at just about everything." she told him. "However, you forgot to mention that I have a bad habit of bitting my nails, I hate rude people, and I forgive too easily. I am running from something! I'm running from my parents because I cannot stand them. And the impression he made on me was something I could not ignore. It was nothing sexual, we just seemed to tolerate each others presence." she finished the rest for him as she nodded. "But I can't ignore the request he made the last day I saw him."_

 _"And what was the request?"_

 _"To give this to you."_

 _"Why?"_

 _"I don't know. All I know is that he knew I would find you. Ford, was always a very vague man even with the small code words, or slangs. Some, I could understand and some was beyond my reach."_

 _"Ford?"_

 _"Yes, that's his name."_

 _"Did he personally state he was my friend?"_

 _"Well, he never really said the word 'friend' because he never had friends. Even then he wouldn't call me a friend, he would call me an acquaintance."_

 _"And did you feel you were acquaintances?"_

 _She shrugged her shoulders, "My idea of labeling things is different from his. I saw him as a friend, he saw me as an acquaintance which was fine by me."_

 _He started to pace the room as he looked outside the window. "What codes are you referring to?"asking her._

 _"There was one he liked to say, which was referring to you as a knight." she paused as she was thinking, "He'd say, 'The knight is on a case.' or 'The knight has made a grave mistake.' as he would read a newspaper and your face or name would be on there."_

 _"A knight, huh?"_

 _"Yes, which made no sense to me at first but I started to put two and two together. When he had newspapers clippings of your cases everywhere. At first I thought, he was strangely obsessed with you, but then I realized he was solving the cases himself. He was giving theory's of how they would start and how they would end and for the most part, he was right! He would just talk to me about the cases and I would listen." she said her gaze drifted away while thinking of him, "It was strange. It was almost as if he was excited to explain to me what had happened and how he would have done it."_

 _Sherlock glared at her, "Now, this friend," emphasizing on the word friend in a sarcastic tone, "why did he tell you to find me?"_

 _Victoria picked up on the tone, he seemed almost bored with this but was going through the motions. "I don't know. All I know is that when he gave it to me, it was under strange circumstances."_

 _"And what were they Ms. Latimer."_

 _"He seemed..." she paused, trying to think of the right words._

 _"Yes?" Sherlock looked utterly bored and annoyed with her thinking. It was enough to make him roll his eyes._

 _Morgan caught on to his body language and tone, when she said, "No."_

 _Sherlock slowly turned around to look at her._

 _"No?" he found himself repeating her words._

 _Did she just refuse him? Was she defying him?_

 _"I came here to drop off the piece, as he requested. Yes, it may have been late but you go it. I don't know what else I can tell you without boring you. Even if you don't give to bits of a shit for him." she said in a terse tone._

 _"Ms. Latimer, your deductions astonish me." his level of sarcasm had rose as he pushed himself off the desk and stalked towards her, "You come all this way to give me a chess piece, asking for my help, and then you refuse to give me any information. Including to make your own deductions-"_

 _"I did not come here to look for your help-"_

 _"Your tone may not say it but your body language says it all! The way you grasp your messenger bag, the feeling uncertainty and possibly afraid for his wellbeing. The tone turns an octave higher when I mention about your relationship with him. I see more than you know-"_

 _"Look, Mr. Holmes, you may have people who respond to your smart remarks and demands so easily, whether they'd be in astonishment or in anger. You look like the kind of man who gets what he wants, when he wants, but I will not and cannot give it to you. I do not need your help, I came to drop it off and that was the request. As I said, I think he intended to run away. Why? I don't know. I don't think I'll ever have the answers. However, you've given me more than enough answers about your intentions and feelings towards Ford-"_

 _"Feelings? You show compassion for this man? How do women not think logically and think only with feelings. Women are so in tuned with their feelings, its disgusting! You feel for him-"_

 _"As a human being, yes. I feel for him. He was all alone-"_

 _"Did he tell you why he prefers to be alone? To explain the extent of it and his demeanor would change your perception of your precious friend! He will never be understood- it, will never be understood." the baritone had become more demanding._

 _Shrugging her shoulders as she looked away, "You're right, I would never understand and I don't think I want to-"_

 _"Oh, but I thought you were friends!" he mocked her again with an emphasis on the word friend, "Friends are supposed to know everything about each other! Shall I tell you what he is and what he was-"_

 _"It's none of my business-" Victoria was cut off by Sherlock as he scoffed at her._

 _"I gather he told you everything about his past then? Did he tell you his deepest, darkest secrets?" again seeping with sarcasm and disdain,"Did he give stories of his wild nights he used to pull? Or even what he is capable of?"_

 _Victoria could hear in his tone that there was so much more than just what he saying. There was a hidden statement behind all of this. It was as if he was telling her to read between the lines._

 _"Did he mention to you that he was drug addict?" he said almost in triumph. "Did he tell you the binges he used to go through in a week? How many close calls he's had-"_

 _"He didn't have to tell me that he was a drug addict because the day I met him, I found out that he was one. I found Ford on the stairs going into shock from withdrawals. If nobody had found him, he would've died!" she found herself raising her voice._

 _This was news to Sherlock as he went silent. Blinking hard he shook his head, "That's not possible. He couldn't have relapsed."_

 _"Oh, but he did! And he was trying to get clean, but he did it all wrong."she kept her tone high and somewhat authoritative._

 _There was a small pause between them._

 _"And you sir, are no saint yourself. You think Ford had demons. I'd say you have your own demons yourself, as a former and-" she paused as she scowled at him. Taking a step towards him, she had come closer then he would've expected but he never moved. "What are you doing Ms. Latimer?" ._

 _Small as she was, her dark green eyes held him in place as she leaned in. It wasn't one of lust or of curiosity, it was of analyzation._

 _"Ms. Latimer, I don't have time-" as he made his argument, he felt her strong hands on his chest give a slight push and held him in place. It was an opportunity to see her better, it was only right. If she was analyzing him then why not he, in a more personal space ideal. Sherlock could see the bags under her eyes, from the lack of sleep but didn't cover it up. No makeup, fresh skin and with red cheeks, small nose, full lips with big eyes. Even at the age of 32 she looked to be at least 20 years old with her soft face and soft features._

 _The word, beautiful, came to mind._

 _Yet, it was not intended to be something he could think for himself. It would be what any man would think or say, or even desired. But she didn't make it so with her appearance. Her hair hadn't been cut in a months, especially with her wavy long hair, that was tucked into a bun with small strays escaping. Eyebrows have been ignored, since it was out of control but still somewhat decent. Jewelry was nonexistence, since she worked in the medical field. It was apparent that she wasn't trying to capture any man's attention. She was a minimalist to herself but when it came to others, she gave them her undivided attention._

 _Compassion._

 _She reeked of it._

 _Then again, something changed when his eyes traveled down to her neck he saw she a small scar on the left of her neck, horizontal and about 4 inches long, on the are where the jugular is, hiding partially behind her collared blue shirt._

 _"Current user." she quietly said as she felt Sherlock step away from her, breaking him from the reverie. Sherlocks eyes wavered away from her neck._

 _"You're right, I don't know you but your next dosage is up in a few hours." she eyed him as she turned away. "You dare judge when you can't bare to be judged yourself." shaking her head, "You're going through withdrawals yourself."_

 _Where did this women come from? She knew more than she should and it worried him. Maybe that was the reason why Ford liked her._

 _"A medical background does not determine whether or not I am doped up or not-"_

 _"Your pupils are dilated, you can barely stand straight, your right hand is shaking on it's own accord, your attention may be to my words but your gaze is everywhere else. It's cold outside and yet you are sweating even though the room has no fire at the moment, and the heater is not on. You ran after me in your pajamas, in the freezing cold with no shoes. Your pain receptors are dulled at the moment. If I were to throw you outside, in the cold, with exactly what you are wearing and lock you out, you'd be just fine." she challenged him and it was greatest, yet, strangest thing she could've done. She had just met him! Her voice somewhat shaking, she knew she was making a bold statement but it was worth seeing his face._

 _Oh yes! He could see why Ford would like her._

 _"That would be tremendously ambitious of you to throw me out of my own flat." Sherlock's tone was somewhat laced with humor._

 _"Yes, it would be but I am feeling very tired after an 18 hour shift. Luck would be on your side." she told him as she wrapped her scarf around her neck. "Have a great day, Mr. Holmes!" waiving her hand as she went to the door. "I hope I never see again and don't forget to drink your tea. Hypothermia" she yelled._


	4. Chapter 4

Every day after work, early in the morning, she would come home to her apartment, that was not in the best of shapes. Victoria kind of liked the feel of the old building with the musk of a smell, the slight creeks of the boards, the peeled paint on the wall, the shuffling and mumblings of the other tenants. She had only been there for 3 months and it felt like it was enough. Staying on the 6th level out a 10 story building, most of her neighbors usually kept to themselves and so did she. Never really acknowledging her neighbors because she never needed to or wanted to.

In the early morning hours, she went home with a lingering migraine. No amount of pills would ease her mind unless she slept and she had no plans of sleeping in the ER where she worked. Entering her building, there was an out of order sign on the elevator. Cursing under her breath, she made her long and annoying trek all the way up to her floor. It felt even longer with the right side of her brain, feeling like she was ready to explode. Step by step, she pushed on. Rubbing her temples and closing her eyes because the light had annoyed her eyes. Turning the corner to the 5th floor, when she accidentally tripped on something causing her to fall down. There was a man, laying on the stairs, faced down and unconscious with vomit on the floor. Turning the man over, she saw that he was not breathing, his skin was purple.

"Shit."

Quickly she took out her phone and called 999, placing it on speaker, while taking her coat off. Laying the man on the ground, she open his shirt and started administering CPR. The phone was ringing.

"Emergency, do you nee fire or medical?" the dispatcher asked.

"Medical." she said.

"Can you tell me what's happening?"

"My name is Doctor Latimer, I work at the Saint Barts Hospital, I have a male unconscious, looks to be in his early 30's. He may have gone through withdrawals of drugs. I am administering CPR. May have choked on his vomit."

The popping and crunching sound was still not something she was used to hearing, especially when doing CPR and the chest gets broken. Victoria was used to not being optimistic or pessimistic, when it comes to a patients life. All she knew was to do her job and do it right, even she had a feeling that he wasn't going to make it but, she was going to try anyway. As she continued to do compressions, it felt long and strenuous especially with her migraine. But she should know this routine, she's been doing it for years. Then a small wheezing sound escaped from his throat, then a cough, or at least an attempt of a cough. He was choking on his vomit. Turning him to the side and his head, to prevent him from choking, he released the vomit. Coughing it out and inhaling hard, all the while Victoria continued on the phone explaining what had happened. The man, turned his gaze towards the voice and saw her, "Stay with me!" she told him. The look he gave her was almost pleading and sad. "I got you." she told him as she moved the hair away from his face, eventually he blacked out again.

Victoria noticed that it was her neighbor from next door. She'd only seen him a hand full of times and even then, he never said a word to her and neither did she.

Victoria did not go home, she barely even made the 6th floor. Going into the ambulance, she found herself watching his vitals, since he was stable but still in a dangerous state. The migraine had somehow disappeared.

The stranger, had been sent to the hospital. His chest had been broken due to the CPR, he had been under heavy sedation and saline due to the withdrawals. The sweating, shakes and violent fever. Barely coherent as she tried to speak to him but there were no words. That was the first hour after he was administered. The second hour he woke up and started yelling. Victoria could see that he was having hallucinations but she could not see or understand what he was yelling about. Regardless, she continued with her work, as she started to strap him down to prevent the stranger from hurting himself and possibly herself. The nurses did their best to hold him down but he was stronger. He broke free from the nurses grip and tried to grab her neck. Victoria reacted quickly by shoving the nurse who was in front of her to the side. Grabbing his arms and placed the top of her body as weight on him to prevent him from moving, "Sedative, now!" she yelled. The stranger looked her dead in the eyes, "You should've left me to die!" he growled at her. "Then you should've died somewhere where no one would find you!" she yelled back. As the nurse grabbed the needle, one of his arms came loose, slapping the needle from the nurses hand. Victoria saw that she was going to be the next to get hurt, but before he could react, he started to seize.

Great.

I guess this was the reason she wanted to be a Doctor, to attempt a fight on a hospital bed with a patient. How exciting.

The next few hours were a little more quiet but he was now rejecting the drugs. Multiple drugs. This man should've been dead hours ago but his body kept rejecting it and fighting it.

On the third day, she had visited him while he was laying in his bed. She tried to keep up with his progress throughout the days but she was unable to since she was busy in the ER and had to make time for rest. She had down time so she went to see him. He was still sweating, his muscles would jerk unintentionally, he was still very pale and sickly. Standing in front of his bed, she took the clipboard and started reading the paperwork. The room was dark and quiet. As she mumbled the numbers to herself, she heard a groan. Looking up from the clipboard to the stranger. He was opening his eyes and saw her. Blinking hard he started to move his eyes to observe the room.

"Don't strain yourself, Mr. Ford Prefect." she told him in a calm tone but stern tone. "You are at Saint Bart's Hospital. It's Thrusday, March 13th, 2014 and time is 1638hrs or if it would be easier for you to understand, 4:38 p.m." she sighed, "You've been going through withdrawals from percocet, oxycodone, cocaine these past three days."

Slowly he opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out.

"Mr. Prefect, I have not contacted your family because your phone is gone. I spoke to the landlord of our apartment, I was able to get your name but nothing else since you didn't put any family emergency to contact."

Taking a deep inhale, his voice croaked, "No family."

Nodding her head, "I understand. However, you need to get you through this. Do you have any friends that can come and visit you or see you, at least to check on your well being?" she asked.

"No." his voice croaked as his eyes started shifting up and down, trying to observe her.

Again, she nodded as she placed her hands in her pocket of her doctors coat. It was easy to see that he was still young and absolutely reckless. Handsome and yet ruined. What a shame.

"You're welcome." she said to him in a cold tone.

His eyebrow cocked up.

"For saving your ass." she told him as the machine beeped, the saline was running low. Approaching the machine, she grabbed another and changed it while his eyes followed her.

"Next time you need to withdraw from drugs, seek professional help and not do it on your own." she said in a cold and hard tone all the while avoiding his gaze.

"I didn't ask-" he was about retort but she bit back. "And I didn't ask to see your lifeless body on the stairs and I was not going to ignore it!"

Victoria left the room but before she closed the door, she was sure she heard a small laugh coming from the room.


End file.
